"The world... ravaged... the sun beat down on the carbon stricken rock. Civilisation... a distant memory. Human-robot sex... the norm. Each day, every day, survival and ... how? this-thus."

A not too distant, distant too hot near-future.

Wednesday, 28 July 2010

The day the music died and took a hostage with it

I have a neighbour - well, not quite a neighbour, more accurately but less specifically, there's someone on the block - who has taken to playing Bon Jovi albums (exclusively and back-to-back mind you) for hours on end without end at full blast. Excessively. I want them to die. But I want them to die knowing the reason why. Snuffed out in an inglorious blaze of gory. Measure for measure. Does that make me a bad medicine man?